


Moya Lyubov

by Fudgyokra



Series: Foreign Affairs [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan waited patiently for Alfred to speak, and was caught off guard when no words came. Instead, the latter craned his neck, reaching up and claiming Ivan's lips again. "If we get caught," he murmured breathlessly after he'd broken the kiss. "I'm going to kill you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moya Lyubov

**Author's Note:**

> This is years old and was written for FFN user Rennasakura, who requested RusAme with a bit of jealous England. For my own personal enjoyment I wrote a (FrUK) sequel.

(Title - Russian: My Love)

 

"You know," Alfred breathed as he was shoved backward onto the bed, "maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why do you say that?" his companion questioned lightly, shrugging his sweater off his shoulders and unbuttoning his pants before climbing on top of Alfred.

"Because we're sharing a building with the entire world right now and someone's bound to hear us?" The American made a valid point, but it was quite obvious his lover was intent on getting somewhere.

"You're just making up excuses, moya lyubov." Ivan leaned down, his lips meeting Alfred's in a heated kiss. He felt the younger man's tongue slip between his teeth, meeting his own in a light brush that sent cold shivers down his spine.

Their tongues stayed connected for a moment, swirling together until, finally, Alfred pulled back, wiping the remaining strand of saliva away with the back of his hand to put in a breathy, "Ivan, you know I'm right."

"And?" Ivan nuzzled his face into the crook of Alfred's neck - an innocent gesture that conflicted with the not-so-innocent path his free hand was taking as it trailed down the other's bare chest. Alfred growled, catching the Russian's wrist as his hand hit the waistband of the American's pants.

Ivan pulled his head back, smiling in his usual sweet manner at the man beneath him. "I will comply with your wish to stop, should you have one, but I know you are interested. I know you better than you may think, dear."

The boy's grip loosened a little, blue eyes darting to Ivan's face and narrowing.

Ivan waited patiently for Alfred to speak, and was caught off guard when no words came. Instead, the latter craned his neck, reaching up and claiming Ivan's lips again. "If we get caught," he murmured breathlessly after he'd broken the kiss. "I'm going to kill you."

"We will not be caught."

Alfred smirked. "You'd better hope not. Now..." He reached up and hooked the index finger of either hand into the front belt loops of Ivan's pants. "Gimme a show."

Ivan grinned, straightening himself to where he was straddling Alfred's lap. The latter simply folded his arms behind his head and watched as his companion pulled off articles of clothing, one by one. Once he was finished, he adjusted his position to sit on his knees and began undoing the other's belt. "Eager tonight?" he asked, looking up just as a blush spread over Alfred's face.

"Shut up," the latter murmured, lifting his legs a bit so his pants slid down his shins; he kicked them the rest of the way off.

Ivan chuckled. "Come now, do not be offended. It isn't as if I'm not in the same situation."

There was no response, so the Russian placed his hands at the backs of Alfred's knees, lifting them to his shoulders and giving him clear access to all of the American's most sensitive regions.

"No foreplay?" the latter asked, his breathing becoming sporadic to accompany his heart beat.

Ivan looked up with wide, innocent eyes. "Well, there is a meeting very early tomorrow, da? I thought we should get finished early so we could sleep. But if you want..."

"Nahh, you're right." Alfred smirked again. "Besides, we have plenty of time _after_ the meeting tomorrow."

"Absolutely," Ivan replied, mimicking Alfred's smirk. "So, shall we?"

"Oh, yeah."

Ivan nodded once, then extended his arm, letting his fingers hover directly over Alfred's mouth. Having done this before, the American boy knew what this was signaling. So, with eager movements, he grasped Ivan's wrist, taking three of the fingers into his mouth and sucking on them in the most sensual manner he could manage. It earned him what he'd been waiting to hear - a low moan from his companion.

"You like that?" he teased upon releasing the fingers with a wet pop.

Ivan grinned devilishly, leaning down toward's Alfred's face. The movement resulted in the latter's thighs pressed against his own chest, but he tried to ignore it to the best of his abilities. "Not as much as I'd like it if it were something else..."

Alfred flushed again. "Ivan!"

The Russian laughed, a sweet sound that sent tingles up his mate's spine. "I've done it to you before, dear." He let his arm drift down and grabbed a hold of Alfred's cock, squeezing and eliciting a sharp yelp from said blonde.

Alfred felt so vulnerable in the position he was in, with his legs dangling behind Ivan's shoulders, and the two of them being nearly chest-to-chest, save for Alfred's thighs separating them. He really didn't need Ivan playing around like that to make matters worse then they already were. To make his point, he slid his legs off Ivan's shoulders and sat up straight, pushing the surprised Russian back onto his behind.

"Hn?"

Alfred clambered onto the other's lap, spreading his legs to straddle him. He bent his neck so that his face met Ivan's. "Hurry up," he demanded, voice low.

With no reason not to comply, Ivan reached up and laid his hand on the back of Alfred's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss as he pushed the index finger of his other hand into the boy's orifice.

Alfred tensed up, then hurriedly relaxed. His breath escaped his lips in a quick exhale.

"Sorry, dear."

The lack of verbal response was made up for by the pointedly tightening grip on the Russian's shoulders.

Enough time passed to where Ivan could add another two fingers, viciously pumping in and out in a quick but steady rhythm.

Alfred was panting uncontrollably now, grasping so tightly to Ivan's shoulders that he briefly feared he was drawing blood. "That hurts."

Before Ivan could reassure him, his fingers curled into a certain spot that made Alfred scream, arching his back and squeezing his eyes shut. "Ivan!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

"It seems I've found that spot..." Ivan teased at it, pumping his fingers back and forth at the same angle.

Alfred could barely take it any more. "Hurry the fuck up or...or...oooohh."

Ivan couldn't help but smile. "Let me guess: Or you'll kill me?"

"Damn right."

The older man chuckled. "I figured as much. It is a regular threat." He shook his head in good humor towards the American boy, withdrawing his fingers and flipping him onto his stomach.

Alfred whined as he raised to his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder to see Ivan position himself behind him. He looked forward again and dipped his head when he felt the tip of his companion's member hit his opening.

Subconsciously, Alfred's fingers tightened around the wad of sheets they held.

Slowly, Ivan pressed in, taking delight rather than sympathy in the broken pants Alfred was giving beneath him.

"You had to be the biggest country in the world, didn't ya?"

Ivan smiled at the rhetorical question before beginning a vague pattern of shallow thrusting, at which Alfred cried out, mouth curling into a smile. "Yes!" He felt the word escape his throat before he'd really thought about it. Not that Ivan minded.

They kept at it until Ivan's thrusts were becoming less patterned and more ragged out of sheer lust, and the moaned words pouring from the both of them became indiscernible.

"Ivan!" Alfred exclaimed loudly, hitting his climax and spilling onto the bed beneath him. Ivan pulled out with a satisfied smirk and allowed the younger boy to catch his breath and turn himself over.

"Fuck..." For a few seconds, Alfred simply stared into the other's eyes, and only when Ivan shifted uncomfortably did he realize he had yet to come.

Needless to say, Ivan was concerned (albeit curious) when the American got a maniacal glint in his eye. "Well, ya know, Ivan... Since you've been so good to me, I think I've got a little present for you." The Russian didn't know how any blood made it to his cheeks right then, because it felt like all of it had just pooled down to his erection.

Alfred crawled forward, gently nudging Ivan's legs apart and ducking his head down. "I've got your fix, babe," he whispered against him.

Ivan choked back a moan.

"I wanna hear you. I wanna hear you scream my name."

In surprisingly graceful movements, he better positioned himself on all fours, making the most suggestive sounds he could manage as he trailed his tongue up Ivan's cock.

"Alfred..." the latter mumbled, inadvertently keening. He wasn't used to his lover being so...forward.

"A little louder? For me?" He had the entire head in his mouth now, slowly moving upward.

"Der'mo! Alfred!" Ivan felt the heat coil in his stomach as the very exclamation left his mouth.

Alfred grinned around his partner's member, prepared to milk him for all he was worth. It only took a few seconds, and Ivan came hard.

The air settled around them, and Alfred pulled away, using his thumb to wipe away the thin line of cum that escaped the corner of his mouth. With a very satisfied smirk, he laid himself on top of Ivan, resting his chin on his folded hands. "So?"

Ivan looked down, his eyes meeting the shining blue ones that belonged to the American. "You lost your glasses," he pointed out, smiling at the annoyed look his comment resulted in.

"Yeah, they must've fell off when I was being pounded into the mattress."

The older male chuckled, wrapping his arms around Alfred's waist. "I hope we didn't break them."

Alfred glanced around, realizing for the first time just how badly they'd destroyed the sheets. "Jesus..."

"Ya tebya lyublyu."

Alfred looked up, startled at the sudden rough pronunciation that could only be Ivan's native Russian. "Huh?"

Ivan smiled, tilting his head in that faux-innocent way of his. "I love you."

There was a short silence while Alfred soaked the phrase in. "You...do?" was all he could manage to say.

"Of course. Why else would I call you moya lyubov? It is not a lie."

Alfred flushed, looking away. "I never really knew what it meant."

"Did you think this was just sex for the sake of sex?"

Equally surprised by the inquiry, the American blinked owlishly. "Of course not! I just - uh, well, I mean, I guess I...loved you and just didn't..."

"You didn't think I loved you back? I am right?"

Alfred looked away. "Right."

Ivan's smile turned up a bit more as he let one hand slide up his lover's back, moving to caress the side of his face and bring his gaze back to violet eyes. "But I do."

"Good. Because I love you too. Bastard," he added for good measure, though he still grinned.

The two stayed silent the rest of the night, not bothering to clean up before they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 "Der'mo! Alfred!"

Arthur paused outside Alfred's door. "What the bloody hell...?" he whispered to himself, peering at the piece of wood as if it would give him the answer to his half-posed question.

It was eleven o'clock - Alfred was usually out cold by this time of night. And was that...Ivan's voice he'd just heard? His head was spinning. That's...that's impossible, he tried to tell himself. Alfred hated Ivan. Why would he be in his room?

Not really feeling himself doing it, the Brit pressed his ear against the door. "You lost your glasses," he heard Ivan saying.

"Yeah, they must've fell off when I was being pounded into the mattress."

Arthur's eyes shot wide open. Alfred? In a discombobulated state, he stumbled away from the door, his hand shaking as he lifted it to his chest. They were...

"Oh, dear God," he muttered, pressing the shaking hand to his mouth. "I can't believe..."

"Angleterre?" Francis called from somewhere up the hall. "What are you-"

"Shh," Arthur hissed, his voice angry but his face terrified.

Francis opened his mouth to reply before he realized whose door they were standing at. "Arthur...why are you standing outside Alfred's door?" A grin suddenly blossomed on his face, and he continued talking without letting Arthur answer. "Ohoho, you've come to tell him something, no?"

"Don't be daft," Arthur snapped, shoving past Francis and stalking off down the hall.

Smile fading, Francis followed the angered Brit. "What is wrong, Angleterre?"

"Ivan is fucking Alfred!" he exclaimed, grateful that everyone was asleep and no one but the Frenchman could hear him.

Francis watched, mouth agape, as Arthur turned the corner, leaving his presence entirely.

He blinked. "Merde."


End file.
